An Unusual Alliance
by magicks
Summary: When Gabe cracks, who's there for him? Surprisingly, not Sara. More Gabe-angst, people! I know, I have a problem. r&r Chap 3 up. *read A/n*
1. Unlikely Saviour

An Unusual Alliance 

By: magicks 

Summary: When Gabe cracks, who's there for him? Surprisingly, not Sara. 

A/n: My muse is on an angst kick, and she's set her murderous little sights on Gabriel, so, yes, this fic contains suicide, depression,and cutting. Don't hurt me! 

A/n2: oh, yeah, this is an AU. Nobody died in "Transcendence" except for Dante, Danny's alive (although the first season is the same) and Jake decided to stay at the NYPD instead of going back to the FBI. 

Disclaimer: "Tell me," said the psychiatrist,"when did these nightmares start?" "A couple months ago," she answered, "when she told me- she- she" the girl broke down in tears. "She told me she didn't own Witchblade!" she sobbed. The psychiatrist scribbled something onto the legal pad in his lap. 'Witchblade owned by Top Cow and TNT.' "I see," he said sympathetically, handing the young lady a tissue, "that sort of news would be hard for anyone." 

***************************************** 

Gabriel inspected his arm closely before making another cut. He took a swig of vodka and watched the blood dribble slowly down his arm. Normally, he didn't drink while cutting himself; with the alcohol he couldn't feel the pain. But tonight was special. It was Sly's three-month anniversary. Three months ago today, he had found his wild (if not slightly dangerous) best friend hanging from the rafters of his own home, an apparent suicide. Gabriel knew the truth. 

_This one's for you, Sly._ Gabriel sliced open a thin scar that ran diagonally down his left arm, starting just below his elbow and ending three-quarters of the way down his forearm. It was the same line he cut every month. The first cut he ever made on himself. At first, he'd cut slow and deep, wanting to bleed out the pain. Came pretty damn close to bleeding out his own life, too, but he didn't care. The next month he'd reopened the wound, but with less force. Now, he barely cut through the first few layers of skin, just deep enough to draw blood. Deep enough to hurt. 

Another gulp of burning alcohol and the knife switched hands. _Enough wallowing in the past, let's think about the present,_ Gabriel said to himself, and laughed bitterly. _Hmm... where to start? Business first, I think._ He made a slow, deliberate cut about two inches wide across the middle of his forearm. Should anyone see it they would have thought he'd slipped while opening a new shipment, or caught his shirtsleeve on a rusty nail. It looked like a very ordinary cut, to symbolize an ordinary career. Not that selling exotic treasures was ordinary, but his business just wasn't going anywhere. Talismaniac.com was living off token purchases, and he hadn't had any new finds in months. 

_I guess my father was right. I never did amount to anything,_ Gabe thought, contemplating his right arm as if carefully deciding on the placement of the next incision. _Let's see, what else could I possibly have to live for? Oh yes, friends._ Once again, that bitter cold laugh, chilled to the bone. _I've got Sly, whoever's at the bar when I'm there, and Sara._ He cringed at the last name. _Well, I can cross Sly off of the 'People Who Give a Shit' list, though he was probably the only lifelong member. _He made a little nick in the underside of his arm._ Anyone at the bar is either too drunk to remember who they are, much less who I am, or they're trying to get to drunk to remember._ He made another little nick. _I guess that leaves Sara._ Even the mention of her name made him wince, and he took another swill of the firey vodka. Sara. It had been a month since he'd seen her. A month since they'd taken down the White Bulls and Jake had killed Captain Dante in self defense. A month since Nottingham had risked his life to save Sara and himself. Two weeks since Sara had returned from her vacation to Hawaii. A month since she'd called. A month since she'd bothered to think of him at all. 

He nicked himself again with the knife. 

Her friendship was all he had left. He'd given up his silly crush on her long ago, but he still looked to her as a younger brother to an older sister, needing support and guidance. And she hadn't been there. 

He nicked himself again. 

She hadn't called in the past two weeks since she'd been back. 

nick. 

Hadn't cared to see how he'd been coping. 

nick. 

Just like with Sly. 

nick. 

_Give the kid a pep talk, and he's magically healed._

nick. 

Doesn't work that way, Sara. 

nick. 

I hurt all the time, but you don't care, do you? 

nick. 

The messenger's done his job, now he can fade away and everybody can ignore him. 

nick. 

You never did care, did you, Sara? 

nick. 

did you? 

DID YOU???? 

"Fuck you, Sara, fuck you and fuck the Witchblade!" screamed Gabriel, slashing through all of the cuts with one sharp swipe. 

"Why didn't you care? Why didn't you see? I'm hurting, why don't you see? God, why doesn't anyone see?" Breaking down into tears, Gabriel dropped the knife and sobbed into his bloody hands. After a couple of minutes he quieted. It really wasn't Sara's fault. She had her own life to put back together, and couldn't be bothered with things as trivial as his need for reassurance. Nobody should be bothered with it. It was time he put an end to the trouble he caused. 

He reached over to grab the small handgun sitting on the coffee table. He had bought it years ago, but every time he'd considered using it there had been somone, (aka Sly) to talk him down. When Sly died, he threw himself into his work for Sara to keep from pulling the trigger. He figured that if he did these things for her, she would be there for him, be the one to tell him he was wanted in the world when he had his doubts. 

Well, he had his doubts now. _And_, he thought, _I have my answer._

He double checked to make sure there were bullets in the gun, which was a pointless gesture, as he always kept it loaded. He took one last gulp of vodka when he noticed his hand shaking. _Come on, Gabe, no time for second thoughts now._ Still trembing, he raised the gun to his right temple. 

"I woudn't do that, Mr. Bowman." 

Gabriel whirled, and stared into the face of........... Ian Nottingham. _Nottingham?_

"Nottingham, what the *hell* are you doing here? Wait. You know what? I don't care. Just leave." 

Nottingham stood still, his face impassive and expression stone. "I'm afraid I cannot do that." 

"What?!? Didn't you hear me? I said leave! Leave!" Gabriel screamed, backing up against the wall, stressed to the point of hysteria. "Get out! Go! Leave me alone, just like everybody else! I don't matter, remember? I did my job, Sara got the information she needed, now she doesn't need me anymore. So, I'm going to get out of everyone's way. Go, just leave me alone. I don't matter." The last statement was barely whispered, but Gabe knew he heard every word. Despair sweeping over him like a wave, he raised the gun to his head once more, determined to end it once and for all. 

Whether it was Nottingham's enhanced speed, the alcohol in his system, or his lightheadedness because of loss of blood, he never found out, but somehow he blinked and Nottingham was in front of him, plucking the gun from his still trembling hands and tossing it to the ground before enveloping him in a tight hug. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Nottingham whispering, "Child, you matter more than you know." 

********************************** 

Nottingham lifted the boy's body with an ease that even surprised himself. Gabriel was far too light; and, by the shadows and bags he saw under the boy's eyes, he hadn't been sleeping well either. He had planned to simply dress the boy's wounds, take the gun, and leave, but after seeing how serious his condition was, decided the hospital would be a better choice. Keeping Gabriel safe in a secure fireman's carry, he disappeared into the night. 

TBC........? 

Why is Nottingham helping Gabriel? Will Gabriel be grateful for the help? Who's gonna tell Sara? Should I continue? When will I stop asking all these questions? *muse hits magicks over the head with a mallet, knocking her out* 

Muse*turns to reader*: I'd answer her fourth question, if I were you. *smiles sweetly and holds up mallet* 


	2. A Friendship Is Born

An Unusual Alliance 

By: magicks 

Summary & Disclaimer: I'm too lazy to write them again. See first chapter. 

A/n: thanx for reviews, everybody! They have quickly become my meat and drink. 

A/n2: IrishRavenX- I appreciate your review, but I have to say wha-huh? Danny? Son/andor/daughter? And hilarious? This was supposed to be angst. Am I doing something wrong? 

Chapter 2- A Friendship is Born 

Gabriel woke up with a pounding headache and a bout of nausea that made him reach for the first empty vessel, which, fortunately, was a bedpan. After he had emptied his stomach of what little contents it had, he felt the hand on his back. One look at the owner of that hand brought back the memories of the night before in full force. _Shit._

"How are you feeling?" Nottingham asked quietly. 

"Like someone tried to carve me up for Christmas dinner," Gabe replied grumpily. "Where the hell am I, anyway?" 

"In a private hospital owned by Vorschlag Industries. You had lost too much blood for you to heal without proper medical attention, so I brought you here. I have spoken with the doctor; they are keeping you for another seventy-two hours." 

"Wait a minute, private hospital? I can't afford-" Gabe started. 

"It is all being paid for by Vorschlag Industries." 

Gabe closed his eyes in relief, ingesting the fact that Ian Nottingham had saved his life, voluntarily. Suddenly his eyes flew open and it was only Nottingham's quick reflexes that kept Gabriel from falling off the bed. "Sara!" Gabe gasped. "Does- does she- did you-" 

"Lady Sara does not know of this," Nottingham assured him. "You are registered under the name Ivan Colks, and I have not informed anyone of your predicament. No one is aware of this." 

"But she'll find out," Gabe said, breathing slightly heavily from his exertion. "I can't just disappear for three days." 

"If you wish, I could divert her attentions for the time being so she may not be privilege to this," Ian offered. Gabriel stared at him. 

"You would do that? I-I mean- would you?" 

"Yes, young Gabriel, I would." Ian answered. 

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, man, but, well, why are you doing this? It's not like we're on the best terms or anything." 

Ian met Gabriel's eyes for a moment before looking away. "You are the only one the Wielder trusts, therefore you must be protected for her sake." 

"Oh." Gabriel tried hard not to feel let down. Of course Sara was the reason. She was the only thing Nottingham cared about. 

"But," Nottingham continued, "that is only part of the reason." He looked Gabriel straight in the eye, revealing to him some of the pain and sadness embedded in his gaze. "I know what it is to feel alone and forgotten," he said, in a softer voice than Gabe had ever heard him. As soon as the words were spoken, he tore his mocha eyes away from Gabriel's chocolate ones, breaking the spell those quiet orbs cast. He rose from the small plastic chair by the bedside. 

"I must leave now," he said. "Mr. Irons is expecting me, and Lady Sara will soon awake." He cast a stern glance over Gabriel. "Rest. I will come to see you tonight." Moving to exit, he stopped just before putting his hand on the doorknob. "And do not fear. I will tell no one." Then he was gone. 

*************************** 

True to his word, Nottingham arrived at 7:00, just as Gabriel was finishing dinner. "You know, most of my meals at home don't taste this good," Gabe joked. 

"Perhaps if you bothered to acquire meals of better substance you would not find them such a weak comparison," Nottingham replied. 

"Is that a subtle hint that I need to eat better?" 

"When you do eat." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It is clear that you do not eat regularly, and when you do, it is probably no more than a few bites of takeout or junk food." 

"And how the hell would you know that?" Gabriel was defensive, scared at how close to the truth it was. 

"You are obviously undernourished, which denotes a lack of nutritious food, and the doctor I spoke with said you are at least 7lbs. underweight, which also suggests you did not eat very often." Faced with this clear logic, Gabriel could not deny it any longer. 

"I just never felt like it," he confessed. "Eating and sleeping give you time to think, and thinking was-is the one thing I try to avoid." 

"Why?" Nottingham asked quietly, knowing full well why thinking could be dangerous, but also knowing that Gabriel needed to admit it to himself. 

"Because," Gabriel squirmed uncomfortably. When Nottingham remained silent, he sighed and elaborated. "Because I keep reflecting on how useless I am. Let's face it; I have a business that's going nowhere, a nonexistent love life, and my closest friend only stops by for information on a case. And usually I don't have much to give her. So tell me, where's the use in my life?" he finished angrily, his eyes both daring and pleading Nottingham to find an answer. 

"Is that how you see yourself?" Nottingham held his reserved countenance. "As an unsuccessful businessman with friends who use you?" 

"I'm sorry, I must be imagining things. I could've sworn I just said that," Gabe retorted sarcastically. Nottingham remained calm. 

"And because of this, you have no reason to live?" 

"I believe I said yes to that one, too." Nottingham's gaze flicked over Gabriel neutrally. 

"Then tell me, what reason do you have to die?" 

"Huh?" Gabe was taken off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" 

"You have given me no reasons to live, but none as to why you must end your life, either." 

"Ok, now I'm confused. Isn't that the reason _to_ die?" 

"Two negatives do not make a positive, Gabriel. You have no reason to live, but you have no reason to die. Therefore, you must find a reason for one or the other." 

"Gee, got any suggestions?" Gabe asked sarcastically. 

"I can only tell you what I have observed in my short acquaintance with you." Gabe snorted at the word 'acquaintance'. "You are Gabriel Bowman, a close friend to the Wielder, Sara Pezzini. You are the person she trusts the most. Do not underestimate that." Nottingham emphasized his last remark by shooting Gabriel a look, before continuing. "You are a shrewd businessman with a good heart. You have assisted the Wielder in many of her cases, and provide useful information, though it is often unappreciated and unused. Most importantly, you have shown a loyalty to your friends that should not go unrecognized. I know for a fact your life has been threatened because of your relationship to Lady Sara, and yet you continue to help her with the Witchblade." 

"So, what, I'm a good friend? Gee, thanks Nottingham, I've got a new lease on life." Gabriel exhaled loudly and laid back in his bed. 

"Do not undervalue yourself, Gabriel. If you do only one action to make your life worthwhile, it is enough." 

"So, basically, I should live for my *ability* to be a good friend. Wow, Nottingham, I'm surprised. Have you ever considered a career as an inspirational speaker?" 

Nottingham met Gabriel's eyes with a stare that would have frozen fire itself. "Do you believe this to be a joke? Have you any idea the good fortune you have? You are in the prime of your life, and you have the freedom to be anyone or anything you want. You do not have to comply with anyone's demands; you live for yourself. Do *not* take such freedom for granted." 

Looking at him, Gabriel realized, for the first time, that Nottingham didn't have these things, that he'd never had these things. Working for Irons was not a job; it was a lifelong duty, a duty he couldn't, and probably wouldn't, escape. That fact (and the guilt that accompanied it) hit him hard, and he studied the sheets for some time. Nottingham was right; he was taking his life for granted. He knew he was lucky, but he couldn't stop the depression trying to overwhelm him. Why did he feel so worthless? Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice he had asked his last question out loud until he heard Nottingham answer. 

"Because you are ill." 

"What?" 

"You feel worthless because you have a disease of the mind. You must fight it like one fights everything else: with strength, severity, and endurance. Do not be afraid to ask for help. Pride is the greatest weakness; it can kill you before you are aware of its presence." 

_Kind of like somebody else I know._ Gabe shoved the passing thought out of his head. Nottingham was trying to help him, doing more for him than his closest friends did. It didn't feel right to be thinking those things about him now, no matter how true they may be. He felt he owed something, his respect at least, to the assassin who had saved his life. Gabe pulled himself out of his reflection in time to see Nottingham pull on his dark overcoat. "Nottingham? Where're you going?" 

The man in question turned from the door he was about to open. "I am leaving. You are tired, and I must see to my Lady." 

Gabriel began to protest when he realized that he _was_ tired, exhausted, actually. But he had to say this. "Nottingham, I-uh, I just wanted to say thank you," he stuttered, fighting back a yawn. "If there's ever-" he lost the battle and yawned widely, "If there's ever anything I can do for you, short of hurting Sara, just ask." 

Nottingham stared at him seriously. "Do not die a senseless death." 

"I won't, I promise," Gabe said, fighting to keep his eyes open so Nottingham could see that he was sincere. Nottingham then did something Gabe had never seen him do; he smiled. Not a mocking smile, but a genuine, heartfelt smile, one that almost reached his eyes. Almost, but not quite. 

"Thank you. Now sleep." 

"G'night." Gabriel allowed himself to drift off. Nottingham paused before gliding silently to the bed to look down at the sleeping young man. He took off one glove and hesitantly stroked Gabriel's forehead, brushing the hair back. "Sleep well." 

********************************** 

A/n3: Oh, well, I tried my best, but the conversation still sounds like crap. There's a reason Nottingham's so OOC, though; can you guess? 

Come on. Just press the blue button. Everybody does it. You know you want to. 


	3. Return

Title: An Unusual Alliance 

By: magicks 

Disclaimer: *sniff* Don't own WB yet. (Although I have reason to believe TNT has been receiving my telepathic pleadings to hook up Gabe and Sara.) 

A/n: This chapter is short. *Please read the note after this and the one at the bottom.* 

A/N2: magicks-ese - It has been three weeks, and all my fickle muse would give me as far as plot is this. My story will die on that starvation diet. Therefore, I am sending this fic out into the world, hoping and praying that some other kind fanfic writer will be able to provide it with proper sustenance. I do ask that the two main characters remain main characters, if you are taking up the torch. 

English- I've hit a block in my writing, and this story is coming too slowly for my liking. Considering the rash of community projects I've been seeing, I decided to offer this up to anyone who wants to continue. I will probably continue at some point, but that is so far in the future that whoever wants to respond will be able to finish their fic before I even post another chap. Please, if you do want to continue this, keep Gabriel and Ian as main characters if you can. Thanks! 

Here we go. Last chapter for a while. 

Chapter 3 

Gabe entered his apartment two days later, exhausted but feeling better than he had in a long time. "Guess those doctors knew what they were doing with that balanced meal stuff," he joked to himself as he flopped down on his couch. "Too bad it didn't do anything for my stamina." 

"Your body is still weak from your ordeal; you will fully recover with time, and your stamina will return." 

Gabriel was off the couch like a shot. "Jeez, Nottingham, warn me next time! I nearly had a heart attack, and I just got *out* of the hospital." 

"My apologies," said Nottingham, not looking sorry in the least. "I came to see your safe return, and to make sure there were no- emotional effects- caused by your return." 

"No worries, Nottingham. I'm too wiped to off myself right now." Gabe's smile fell when he caught the reproving look in Nottingham's eyes. "I'm fine, seriously." 

Nottingham seemed to accept this, and fell silent. When it was clear he had nothing more to say, Gabriel shrugged and walked over to check his messages. The little red number on the machine flashed 10. _Hmm, not a bad number for three days,_ he thought, pressing the play button. They were all for Talismaniac. After taking down the necessary numbers, he deleted them, one by one. He wasn't surprised at the lack of personal calls; after all, the only person who would be calling him was Sara, and Nottingham had assured him he would distract her from his absence._ As if he'd need to._

"You do a good job, Nottingham," Gabriel joked. "Pez didn't call once. I bet she doesn't even know I was gone." Nottingham didn't respond; both of them knew that although Sara wasn't aware of the past three days, the assassin had done nothing to interfere. 

After a moment of silence, Nottingham reached into his overcoat and withdrew two business cards. He laid the first on the table, and Gabriel could see it was a private therapist. 

"I have taken the liberty of making you an appointment with Dr. Ivans. He is supposedly the best in New York. I trust you will attend." Despite the informal wording, Gabriel knew he *would* be seeing the therapist, one way or another. The second card was put into Gabriel's hands. It was blank, except for a phone number. Nottingham looked at Gabriel seriously to impress upon him the importance of what he was about to say. 

"With this number you will be able to reach me any time, day or night. Call it only in the greatest of emergencies." Gabriel nodded and slipped it into his pocket. Once it was safely out of sight, Nottingham relaxed and walked over to Gabriel's small fridge. He opened the door to reveal shelf after shelf of fresh meat, fruits, and vegetables, as well as cartons of milk and orange juice. All of the takeout boxes that had littered the small appliance were gone. 

"I had a feeling you would be tempted to return to your regular eating habits, so I ensured the acquisition of nutritious foods, as well as disposed of any," Gabriel thought he could detect a slight wince of distaste, "take-out paraphernalia and," Gabriel was sure of it now, Nottingham had grimaced, "alcoholic substances." 

Gabriel had to chuckle at Nottingham's "precautions." _The guy really does a job, I'll give him that._ "Trying to starve me into health food?" he asked. 

Nottingham glanced at him, and Gabriel thought he could detect a glint of humor in his eyes before he heard the reply, "If that's what it takes." 

_So Nottingham *does* have a sense of humor_, Gabe thought to himself. _I hope._ As the last worried thought crossed his mind, Gabriel realized he wasn't scared of Nottingham anymore. It was like a sixth sense; he *knew* this wasn't the same man who had threatened to kill him less than a year ago. He didn't know what was different, he just knew something was. Gabriel thought of the man now before him, pondering, and remembered one significant fact. Throughout this ordeal, Nottingham had always called him by his first name. It was a step towards friendship, a step Not- Ian had already made; a step Gabriel intended to follow in. 

"Ian?" 

The bodyguard started at Gabriel's voice. It had been so long since anyone other than Irons had called him by his first name that it sounded odd to respond without a submissive tone. "Yes, Gabriel?" 

"I know I said it before, but I just wanted to say it again: thank you. You didn't have to do this, any of it, but you did. And you kept silent. I owe you." 

"You have already repaid your debt," Nottingham stated quietly. Gabriel looked ready to object. "You gave me your promise not to die a foolish death. I will hold you to that." 

Gabriel nodded solemnly. "I'm a man of my word." 

Nottingham didn't respond. Instead, he glanced at the clock, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. He was late. 

"Ian? Where are you-" Gabriel turned around to find himself in an empty shop. "-going?" 

End Chapter 3 

Well, there it is. Be kind to it. And if anyone writes a continuance, I would love to read it, even if you don't post. Please email at dnomaid72@aol.com. 


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